


These Small Hours

by Vampyremelayah



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Falling asleep on your partner, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, Sparkmates, drivel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22139185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampyremelayah/pseuds/Vampyremelayah
Summary: After Rung falls asleep against him, Megatron ruminates on how lucky he is. Honestly, it's just some fluffy drivel I wanted to write about these two, inspired by my rps with the talented AsteroidMiyoko.
Relationships: Megatron/Rung
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	These Small Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AsteroidMiyoko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsteroidMiyoko/gifts).



> Dedicated to AsteroidMiyoko. No one can make me burn for these two like you can.

**Disclaimer:**

I don’t own these characters. To the contrary, it appears that they own me.

**_These Small Hours_ **

It was the small, quiet moments like these that Megatron loved the most. The co-captain of the _Lost Light_ sat on the berth, its back raised so that he could lounge comfortably as he worked. Rung had nestled between his legs, his back against Megatron’s chest as he read through one of his plethora of data pads. Megatron himself was content to flip through his own pad, double checking the duty rosters for the next orn. Although most of the bots on the ship were often beholden to their own whims, several had either volunteered or been conscripted to perform vital services for the ship: security, research, and staffing the medibay. It had blessedly been several cycles since anyone had been in mortal peril or needed medical attention, gifting him a rare moment of downtime where he could just _exist_ with his sparkmate.

Something _tink_ ed against his thigh, startling him away from the schedule for a nano-klik. Megatron’s crimson optics flicked down to the smaller orange mech before him, the curiosity in his expression melting into an amused smile. Rung had slipped into recharge, the data pad falling from his servo. It was hard not to marvel at the beauty of the little psychiatrist: helm tilted back to rest against Megatron’s chassis, his lips slightly parted as he drew in slow, even vents. There was no doubt that Rung trusted Megatron, not with how peacefully he slept when they berthed together. _Peace_. That’s what this feeling was.  
  
All his life Megatron had strove towards that feeling - first for the Cybertronian race as a whole and then for himself after reforming his life. _Pit_ , he’d even entitled his own autobiography Towards Peace! _And to think I would find it on this ship of misfits and outsiders_ , he mused, setting down his pad. As if handling something as fragile as a spark, Megatron slowly wound his arms about Rung, pulling him ever so slightly closer to his frame. He hadn’t considered that he would find love again - or _at all_ \- but the slender mech in his embrace had defied all the odds. Leaning in, Megatron brushed his lips against Rung’s forehelm in a tender kiss. There were no words that could properly express his gratitude to Rung for his love and trust, so he endeavored to spend the rest of his life filling each waking moment with smaller actions that detailed his adoration.  
  
Rung stirred at the kiss, the corners of his lips curling upwards in an unconscious smile. “Beautiful,” Megatron murmured, lowering a servo to entwine with his lover’s. _This. This is what it means to be happy: these small hours spent in the comfort of each other's presence._ Resting his helm against Rung’s, he shuttered his optics and focused on the rhythmic vents of his sparkmate - gentle waves lapping at some great cosmic shore - and drifted off himself.


End file.
